


Static

by Amethystina



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: But I promise you that it has a happy ending, Coma, Five Stages of Grief, Grief/Mourning, It will be worth it in the end, Let's just brave through it together, M/M, just trust me, this one will hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:44:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3257114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethystina/pseuds/Amethystina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are several things in life that Jensen wishes that he'll never have to experience, and losing his friends and family is right at the top of that list. So to see Cougar get swallowed up by destructive grief while Jensen is left standing there, helpless to stop it, is pretty much torture. He wishes that there was something he could do, but it becomes more and more apparent that Cougar is beyond his reach.</p><p>In more than one way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anger and Denial

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter was posted as a stand-alone (and finished) ficlet over at my [Tumblr](http://amethystinawrites.tumblr.com/), but it didn't take long for people to start begging me to continue. So after a democratic vote it was decided that I would, under the condition that I gave it a happy ending.
> 
> I wrote this mainly as an experiment to see if I could tell one story while the readers read another, and according to witness statements I did. You'll notice what I'm talking about when you read it (this only applies to the first chapter), and you might want to read it twice.
> 
> I seriously almost broke my beta, [CarpeDentum](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CarpeDentum), with this first chapter (completely unintentionally for once), so yeah, it will hurt. I also want to thank [Karaii](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Karaii) for the invaluable help with the Spanish. The second chapter would have been a mess without your help and I am forever grateful.

 

* * *

 

Jensen couldn't say exactly when it had happened, but somewhere along the way — possibly between the mission in Peru and that complete cluster fuck in Venezuela — he and Cougar became inseparable. But really, it could have started the moment they met for all Jensen knew. It might not have seemed like it at the time, what with Cougar's penchant for unnerving silence and Jensen's habit to drive everyone into a murderous rage within fifteen minutes of making their acquaintance, but fact remained that they became sort of an item.

Not in the romantic or sexual sense — although Jensen was allowed to dream, as long as he did it quietly — but they _fit_. Where Cougar went, Jensen followed like a faithful, eager puppy, and whenever Jensen got into trouble Cougar was always there, ready to get him out of it.

They were a pair, simple as that. You couldn't have one without the other.

Due to this — and his own invasive personality — Jensen had developed a sixth sense for pinpointing where his reserved and sometimes annoyingly sneaky compatriot was. Mostly for those times when Cougar sought a moment of solitude, and disappeared from anyone else's radar. He never quite managed to shake Jensen, though, despite his best efforts. So Jensen became the go-to guy when Cougar needed to be located, since no one seemed quite as adept at finding their elusive sniper as Jensen — even when Cougar tried to hide.

It became Jensen's responsibility to always know where Cougar was, even if he might not broadcast the fact that he did. But it was a good safety measure, and Jensen shouldered the responsibility without hesitation. It wasn't like Cougar needed looking after, but sometimes — even though Cougar would never admit to it — he was better off not isolating himself completely.

This, however, was one of the times when Jensen knew his presence wouldn't make much of a difference. It hurt to feel so useless, but he still went looking for Cougar. It was a reflex by then — one Jensen couldn't fight, even if he knew nothing would come of it.

He prepared himself for what he would face when he stepped out onto the roof; blue, cloud-free sky up above, and the sound of the rushing wind drowning out the noise from the city below. Spotting Cougar was easy, even if Jensen felt a jolt of concern at the stiff shoulders and lowered head. Cougar's hands were braced against the waist-high wall surrounding the roof, his knuckles bruised and scratched from what Jensen assumed had been a desperate attempt to release some of his pent up frustration.

The blood on his hands had dried, as if Cougar couldn't even be bothered to wipe it away.

Jensen's heart ached at the sight. It was unusual for Cougar to resort to such thoughtless acts as punching a wall in anger. Jensen feared he wouldn't be able to talk Cougar down from whatever ledge he might be standing on — metaphoric or otherwise.

The distress in Cougar's posture was so palpable it hurt to look at. Jensen wanted to reach out and gently make him lower his shoulders — soothe away the tenseness and ease some of the burden Cougar was trying to carry. But Jensen knew he couldn't.

He approached all the same, fingers dancing nervously as he fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt. It wasn't Cougar he was afraid of as much as what Cougar might _do_ , and Jensen's worry only grew the closer he came.

Jensen had never seen Cougar so unbalanced.

He was staring at the street below, as if it would offer him the answer to his problems, but his eyes were haunted. He was seeing something else entirely, and Jensen had a fairly good idea of what it might be.

"It's not your fault, you know," he said softly, stopping a couple of steps behind Cougar. He was within hearing range, even with the wind blowing around them. "I can't believe that you're still beating yourself up over this. It's been over a month, and you couldn't possibly have known that the helicopter was a target."

Cougar seemed to grit his teeth but remained silent, as was his habit. Jensen hadn't really expected anything else, if he was to be honest.

"There was nothing you could have done. We both know that." Jensen looked at his feet, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'm not sure if anything could have changed it."

It hurt to talk about it — he wasn't denying that — but what else could he do? Granted that it probably wouldn't make any kind of difference, but Jensen had always prided himself in being an optimist to the point of stupidity. The current situation certainly called for it.

He let out an aching sigh before looking up, not surprised to see that Cougar hadn't moved. His jaw was tightly clenched, but apart from that he was practically motionless, to the point where Jensen had to wonder if he was even breathing.

"Please, Cougar. I hate seeing you like this." Jensen licked his lips, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep himself from reaching out in an attempt to touch Cougar. "Don't do this to yourself. Please, I'm begging you."

A beat of silence passed before Cougar pushed off from the wall. He didn't look at Jensen, but that was okay — Jensen understood why he couldn't. It still hurt when Cougar turned and brushed past him without a word, not sparing him a glance.

Jensen only caught a brief glimpse of Cougar's face before it was hidden behind the brim of his hat. The look of pure, indescribable grief forced Jensen to pause, his throat seizing up.

He hated seeing Cougar like this.

It was all he could do to stand there and try to breathe around the way his heart was squeezing in his chest. He felt so helpless. Cougar was suffering, and there was literally _nothing_ Jensen could do. This was beyond his abilities.

He lingered there on the roof for a couple of minutes, barely even hearing the door shut with a metallic clang behind Cougar. The wind was howling and the sun was shining down from the clear blue sky. Jensen felt neither of it. He was numb and hollow, trying so desperately to gather up what little determination he had left. But at the same time he wasn't sure what good it would do.

Cougar was, for the first time in a long while, beyond his reach. The rest of the team stood very little chance of getting to him if Jensen failed, and it was heartbreaking to watch the downward spiral Cougar had been on ever since that mission a month ago. Jensen hated it.

Eventually he moved to follow Cougar, but it was with heavy steps. He knew what would await him once he found him, and Jensen had a feeling that it wouldn't improve Cougar's mood in the slightest. Fact was, it would probably be the last push to drive Cougar over that edge, and Jensen was terrified of what would happen when he finally fell.

He didn't want Cougar to fall.

Jensen spotted the rest of the team further down the corridor once he exited the stairwell, dragging his feet the entire way. He didn't want to be a part of this conversation, but he knew he had to. The others remained silent, but Clay glanced in Jensen's direction when he stopped next to them, hands shoved into his pockets and shoulders raised defensively — as if he was protecting himself against what was to come. But there was nothing that could stop it now, he knew that.

Pooch was rubbing a hand over his head in a show of nerves and anxiety that had only seemed to increase over the past month. And the looks he kept giving Cougar were full of concern and wariness; Jensen was clearly not the only one who had noticed how rapidly Cougar was deteriorating.

Roque might look the same on a distance but he, much like Cougar, was stiffer somehow, his expression closed off and guarded. As if he was afraid of letting even the smallest sign of emotion slip through his carefully maintained mask of hardened resolve. It wasn't a good look on him.

Clay looked tired — wrung out. He seemed to have aged drastically over the past month, and even though he kept up a façade of professionalism and firmness it was slipping, ever so slightly, for each day that passed. It hurt to look at him. Clay was far from giving up, but sometimes it was worse when they just couldn't seem to let go. It ruined them all the faster.

And Jensen, heck, he had no idea what he looked like. He felt as tired as the others, exhausted to the bone and weary in a way he hadn't known existed. It had been a rough month for them all, and at the moment it only seemed to be getting worse.

"I know that none of us even want to consider it, but odds are that the situation won't change." Clay looked at the team, his voice softer than Jensen was used to. He looked so tired. "It's been a month and—"

Cougar's wordless snarl was loud enough to make Clay fall silent — not from shock or surprise, but resignation. The look he gave Cougar was far from reprimanding, though. There was enough compassion there to make Jensen swallow, even if it wasn't directed at him.

"Cougar, I know you don't like it. None of us do. But the brass keeps hounding me," Clay replied, his voice sharpening when Cougar gave him a defiant look, just short of baring his teeth. Things were really far gone if Cougar was on the verge of insubordination. "We will be assigned a new mission before the week is up. There's nothing I can do to postpone it any longer."

"They seriously think we're _ready_ for a new mission after what we went through last time?" Pooch asked, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he leaned back against the wall behind him. It seemed to be one of the few things he could do to stop his nervous tells.

"I doubt they care," Roque replied bitterly, to Jensen's surprise. He had thought that Roque would remain stoically silent, as he had done during the greater part of the past month.

"Come on, guys," Jensen tried feebly. "Cheer up. It's not that bad."

It was a pathetic attempt at easing the tension, and as expected no one really took any notice of it.

"I have no idea what they're thinking, but it's out of my hands, so you better be prepared to ship out soon." Clay sounded sincerely sorry and Jensen had to fight an urge to place a hand on Clay's shoulder. That probably wasn't something you should do to your superior officer, no matter if your team happened to be as weird as Jensen's. "Trust me when I say that I know how hard this is, but they want us to keep going."

Cougar muttered something under his breath that could possibly have been in Spanish, probably instinctive, and undoubtedly an insult. Not to Clay, Jensen suspected, but the higher ups that had so little understanding for the difficulties you could face as an active team. Clay shot Cougar a warning look, but that too was met with fierce defiance that made Jensen's blood run cold.

"I advice you against disobeying orders, Cougar," Clay said, voice measured, but it couldn't possibly hide the sadness behind it. Clay probably knew that it would be a lost cause to try and convince Cougar of anything at that point. "I know that—"

"You know _nothing_ ," Cougar snarled, his words so vicious that Jensen jumped in surprise. Pooch threw a wary glance at Clay, while Roque stiffened further. The sorrow in Cougar's voice was so visceral and bare that Jensen had push down his own.

Clay ground his teeth, but he was clearly aware of how he would have to tread lightly, taking his time formulating his reply.

"Alright, fine. I don't know what it's like. But I _do_ know that getting court marshaled won't make things any easier for you."

As far as diplomatic responses went, it was both reasonable and fairly considerate. Too bad Cougar was beyond listening to reason. Jensen had never seen him so upset, and he couldn't help reaching out, trying to talk to him even though he knew it wouldn't make it better.

"Cougar, you have to calm down, you can't—"

"I won't leave," Cougar snapped, glaring at Clay.

Jensen snatched his hand back, giving Clay a pleading look. If things continued like this, Cougar was going to get himself kicked out. As much as Jensen could understand the grief and confusion Cougar had to be feeling, he would hate to see that happen. Cougar was succumbing to his emotions in a way Jensen hadn't even thought possible.

Cougar had always seemed so controlled and dependable. Nothing could shake him. Nothing could make him lose sight of what was important — except this. That fucked up mission in the Brazilian jungle a month ago had effectively reduced Cougar to a combination of vicious, spitting anger and heartbreaking grief. He was lashing out against anyone who tried to talk sense into him, and he was just sinking deeper into despair, without even caring about his own well-being.

Cougar didn't seem to care about anything anymore.

In a way, Jensen couldn't blame him, but he hadn't known that it would hit Cougar this hard, either. Maybe he should have foreseen it, but it was always easier to be wiser in hindsight.

Either way, he was losing him. Jensen could tell that Cougar was slipping.

"Cougar, if you receive an order you will follow it, is that understood?" There was no softness in Clay's voice now, but nor was there any anger.

Jensen wasn't even surprised when Cougar's only reply was to bare his teeth before he turned on his heel and stormed away. Pooch and Jensen moved at the same time, attempting to reach out towards him — to reel him back in and try to curb some of that destructive anger. Clay stopped them.

"No, let him go," Clay said in a low voice. He rubbed a hand over his face, his fingers rasping over his stubble. "It won't make a difference at this point. He's made up his mind."

"Fuck..." Pooch hissed before leaning back, his head hitting the wall with a dull thump. "How the _fuck_ did things get so messed up?"

"Somewhere between that mission in Peru and now, is my guess," Roque replied, and even though his expression didn't change, Jensen could hear the tension in it. Even Roque was uncomfortable seeing what was becoming of Cougar. They all were.

Usually his silences weren't troubling, but now they could tell that Cougar maintained them because he didn't want to share. He was bottling everything up inside and there was only one way that could possibly end, and it wouldn't be pretty.

Jensen missed him.

As one-sided as most of their conversations were, he still missed how close they had been. He missed having Cougar in his peripheral and always knowing that he would be there, somewhere close, if Jensen needed it. That attention had given Jensen a feeling of safety and belonging that he hadn't been able to find anywhere else — which might also be why his affection for Cougar wasn't restricted to the platonic. But that was neither here nor there.

"He'll be fine," Clay said, but all of them — including Clay himself, Jensen suspected — knew it was a lie.

Cougar wouldn't change his mind — not about this. And he wouldn't be fine.

Jensen swallowed and slowly slipped away from the others, knowing they wouldn't notice. He was almost ashamed to admit that he was struggling against tears, but at the same time he probably had the right to be upset.

He was going to lose Cougar, one way or another. He just knew it.

It was hours later that Jensen once again went to find Cougar. It wasn't difficult at all, not considering that Cougar had spent most of his time these past weeks either on the roof, or in that one room that Jensen admittedly avoided if he could help it.

He shivered when he stepped inside, rubbing his palms against his thighs. He tried to tell himself that his hands weren't shaking, but he wasn't fooling anyone.

Cougar was standing by the window, looking out at the sprawling city. Jensen was fairly certain that he saw none of it, though. Cougar was so lost in his thought that he probably wouldn't even react if someone tried to take his hat from him.

"You gotta stop doing this, Cougar," Jensen mumbled softly. "It's not going to help. You know that. You getting yourself dishonorably discharged won't change a thing. You should listen to Clay." His smile was cautious as he took a couple of steps into the room, stopping next to the bed. "He might be a pain in the ass, but he wants what's best for you."

Cougar obviously didn't hear him, but that had never stopped Jensen before.

"And so do I. This isn't it, Cougar. This isn't how you're supposed to handle this."

Jensen looked down at his feet, breathing slowly through the painful clench in his chest.

"Will you at least look at me?" he whispered hopelessly.

It took a second before Cougar seemed to come out of whatever trance he was in, turning slowly to face Jensen. Despite the empty look in Cougar's eyes, Jensen felt a jolt of hope — an unmistakable sizzle of excitement.

But it was dashed just as quickly when he saw that Cougar's gaze looked past him, at the doctor who had stepped in through the door behind him. Jensen hadn't noticed. She was smiling, but Jensen could see the sadness in her eyes. She had to be used to seeing Cougar in there.

"I'm just here for a quick checkup," she explained, as if she had to justify her reasons for being there. Perhaps she did — at least if you asked Cougar, who looked unreasonably hostile considering the circumstances. As if he seriously thought that she was there to do harm, somehow.

Jensen moved out of the doctor's way as she approached the hospital bed, but he still lingered close enough to see what she was doing. Just in case.

"There's not much change, I'm afraid," she said. Even though she wasn't looking at Cougar, he was clearly the one she was speaking to.

It sure as hell wasn't Jensen.

"I think I look weird without my glasses," he blurted out while tilting his head to the side, looking down at himself. "I mean, now that the bruises have faded it just looks weird."

Then again, the wires and tubes attached to him probably did their fair share too.

Neither of the other two in the room answered, mainly because they hadn't heard him speak in the first place. Jensen held back a sigh and watched as the doctor checked his vitals, then his charts, but like she said — there was no change. Jensen was still lying there, immovable and seemingly dead to the world.

At least in a physical sense. Spiritually, well, that was obviously a completely different matter.

"Someone will come in later tonight to make sure that everything is in order," the doctor said unnecessarily, once she was finished with her checkup. Cougar had to know the routines by then. The doctor had even stopped trying to offer useless platitudes of comfort once she realized that Cougar wasn't susceptible to them.

So when Cougar didn't answer — as he rarely did — she merely nodded, before turning to leave again. Jensen watched her go, feeling both pensive and a tiny bit abandoned. He was fairly certain that she didn't think he would wake up. No one did.

And that was why Cougar was unraveling.

In the past month, Jensen had shown no sign of waking up from his coma. Well, not one that the others could detect, anyway. Jensen had tried to alert them of his presence somehow — fuck how he had tried — but they couldn't see or hear him. It was a special kind of hell for someone like Jensen, who thrived on the attention of others and loved to talk pretty much nonstop.

Being incorporeal was horrible.

And he might remain that way indefinitely, or until Jess decided that to cease his care would be the kindest solution. Jensen doubted that she ever would, though. She didn't have time to visit as often as Cougar did, but she was stubborn and clearly refused to accept that Jensen might not come back to her and Beth. To Cougar. To the rest of the team.

His family.

Jensen felt rather flattered by her faith in him; he just wished he knew how avoid disappointing her. This wasn't as easy as waking up from a good night's sleep. He had tried. He wanted so desperately to wake up, but he had no idea how. If he had known, he would have done it within the first week. It would have saved him the agony of having to watch Cougar descend into this never-ending spiral of mourning.

Cougar refused to let go.

Cougar was angry and hurt, but above all else, he looked guilty — as if he thought that it was his fault. As if he could have stopped it somehow, if he had only been there for Jensen, like he usually was. Cougar seemed to think that he had failed him.

Jensen didn't think that. He knew there wasn't much Cougar could have done to change things. He had been too far away to do more than warn them of the incoming reinforcement troops. He could do nothing but watch as the chopper Jensen was just about to leave in got hit.

Then again, maybe that was why Cougar looked like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest.

Cougar must have seen the whole thing, whereas Jensen had gratefully blacked out from the pain at the initial crash, having been spared the rest. He had woken up — in the most relative sense possible — two days later, only to find that his body was in a coma and that his consciousness wasn't quite agreeing with that.

Which in itself was a bit difficult to swallow, never mind the emotional turmoil he had to go through, watching his friends and family grieve.

Because they were. As much as most of them still hoped that he would wake up, Jensen could tell that none of them really _believed_ he would. They were slowly but surely accepting the fact that he was lost to them.

It hurt.

But Jensen couldn't blame them either, even if it made him feel a sting of anger and betrayal.

Jensen inhaled slowly when Cougar moved towards the bed, his expression carefully blank, but still so incredibly telling. When Cougar stopped they were standing on each side of Jensen's unmoving body, and despite the ache in his chest, Jensen forced a smile.

"You never thought you'd come to hate silence as much as you do now, huh?" he teased, even if he knew that Cougar couldn't hear him.

Cougar didn't seem to know what to do. He just kept staring down at Jensen with the same vacant look on his face. He didn't look upset anymore — he looked like he had forgotten how to feel in the first place.

All things considered, Jensen looked rather well, though. In the month that had passed his bruises and the smaller wounds had healed. Most of the broken bones were getting there. But the head trauma still remained — if that was even the reason for why he wasn't waking up. It was difficult to tell at that point, and Jensen wasn't exactly a doctor.

When Cougar's hand moved to land on top of Jensen's — the one lying limp against the hospital sheets — Jensen liked to pretend that he could feel the warmth of it. He couldn't help pulling that same hand out of his pocket and look down at it, but he felt nothing. Not even a tingle. He could see that Cougar was squeezing his fingers, but it might as well have been someone else's.

Jensen's smile was rueful.

"You really shouldn't let this ruin you, Cougar. I know we're best buddies and all that, but you can move on. You'll do fine without me — I know you will. It's not worth it," he mumbled, mostly to himself. Cougar still couldn't hear him. " _I'm_ not worth it."

Unaware of Jensen's rant Cougar reached out with his free hand, his fingers running tentatively through Jensen's hair — as if he was afraid of disturbing him. It caused a clench in Jensen's chest to see Cougar be so gentle. Not that Cougar was usually rough with him — he was actually a bit more careful with Jensen than the others, if anything — but that simple act spoke of a tenderness that Jensen had never seen directed at himself before. Not like this.

He wasn't even sure if he was supposed to see it now, considering that Cougar wasn't aware of him being there — watching, but unable to reach out.

Jensen blinked in surprise when Cougar leaned forward, his lips brushing against Jensen's forehead. His heart skipped a beat.

Okay.

There was a possibility that Jensen was reading too much into this. He had been in love with Cougar for _ages_ , so maybe he was just grasping for straws due to his own desperation.

Yeah, he was imagining things.

Or at least he _was_ , until Cougar spoke — just a soft whisper of words against Jensen's pale skin.

" _Te amo_."

There was no mistaking the emotions coloring those words, and they were as far from platonic as one could possibly get. Jensen had to close his eyes, swallowing down the pain that flared in his chest.

What could he possibly have done to deserve this?

Jensen's chuckle was more of a half-choked sob than anything else, but it wasn't as if Cougar could hear it.

"God, how I wish you could have said that a month ago instead of now." Jensen rubbed a hand over his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek in a vain attempt to stave off the feeling of hopelessness that threatened to swallow him. "Fuck it, Cougs, why couldn't you have said it earlier? Or why couldn't _I_ have? Why couldn't—" Jensen sucked in a deep breath, gritting his teeth. "I wish things were different. I wish I could have done something to prevent this. Maybe if I hadn't gotten on that chopper. Or if I had been more aware and jumped out or... I don't know. _Something_."

As expected, there was no answer.

He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

Would he be like this for the rest of his life? Quietly observing, but unable to talk or interact with anyone? Was he going to have to watch Cougar run himself to the ground, helpless to stop it?

If he had known how to wake up he would have, in a heartbeat, but he didn't.

There was nothing he could do.

So he remained where he was, looking at Cougar across the hospital bed with his own motionless body, hands shoved into his pockets to fight the urge to touch. He knew he wouldn't be able to.

Cougar, as always this past month, was completely unaware of Jensen's presence. His fingers kept wandering through Jensen's hair, though, so achingly gentle that Jensen mourned the fact that he couldn't feel it. He would have done a lot to be able to. He couldn't feel the squeeze Cougar gave his hand either, but he could see the almost resigned determination in Cougar's eyes. He could see the grief — the lines it had etched onto Cougar's face — and he saw the helplessness he knew was reflected on his own face.

"I won't leave," Cougar said.

It was a promise. Jensen knew it was a promise.

His smile trembled, his hands clenching to the point where he could feel his bones grind.

"That's what I'm worried about, Cougs," Jensen replied, voice soft. "This will ruin you."

Cougar obviously didn't care.

All Cougar seemed to see was Jensen's limp, motionless form, and Jensen could do nothing to stop it. There was nothing he could do to ease Cougar's pain, or give him hope for the future — he couldn't promise that he would come back to him.

Jensen wanted to, _God_ how he wanted to, but he didn't know how. He was stuck, confused and helpless. There was nothing he could do.

He could only watch.

Jensen finally understood the true concept of Hell.

 


	2. Bargaining and Depression

 

* * *

 

It didn't take long at all for Jensen to work out the limits to being incorporeal. He couldn't explain even half of it, but he figured that it was good to know what he could and couldn't do. There was very little logic to some of it — like how his hand would pass through anything he tried to touch, but he didn't fall through the floor — and had he been less distracted he might have explored that further. Now he just took note of his limitations and worked with what he had.

He couldn't be seen, heard, or touch anything. He didn't need to eat or sleep, meaning that he spent every waking hour, well, _awake_. It was torture, pure and simple, since being incorporeal in no way made him immune to boredom. He could walk through doors and walls — even people — but usually avoided it, mostly on instinct; stepping out of the way for people and aiming for doorways rather than walls. It came automatically after a life of being used to having an actual, physical body.

What he hated the most — besides the obvious of being invisible and _not there_ — was that he couldn't feel. It was as if he existed in a hollow bubble, removed from the rest of the world. He could hear and see just fine, but he couldn't sense anything beyond that. He had no sense of taste or smell, and he couldn't feel the warmth of the sun or the rush of the wind. Not even pinching himself had felt as it should. He did feel it, sure, but it was muted and distant somehow, as if someone had given him a local anesthetic.

Jensen had no idea if he could leave the hospital. He hadn't actually tried, which in itself was a rather big clue. He was usually too curious _not_ to try, but this he didn't even consider — as if he knew, deep down, that it wouldn't be a good idea. It wasn't fear, exactly, he just knew that it was better not to try. As if he had to remain within a certain distance of his body unless he wanted to dissolve into nothingness.

So Jensen spent most of his time at the hospital, to his infinite boredom. Most of the time, there were people around to watch, sure — his team was also there on a regular basis — but there was only so much he could do when he wasn't capable of interacting with anything in his environment. As curious as Jensen was, it was no fun spying on people when you were invisible, not to mention that he had no use for the information since he couldn't spread it further.

Jensen was slowly but surely going out of his mind.

Cougar's continued deteriorating mental state didn't help in the slightest. All of them knew that it was only a matter of time before they were given a new mission — with some kind of replacement sent in to cover for Jensen's absence — and it was becoming increasingly obvious that Cougar had every intention of disobeying those orders. He was too caught up in his grief. Not to mention that he might actually put the others at risk if he came along. Cougar was clearly not at his best with Jensen in a coma, so even if they forced him to comply, he might be a liability.

Jensen had never thought there would come a time when Cougar would be incapable of giving his all. It just wasn't in his nature. Cougar took his job and team — his _family_ — very seriously, and would stop at nothing to keep them safe. But there was obviously something that mattered to him even more than that. Something that could make Cougar lose focus to the point where he saw very little else.

Jensen almost felt guilty for being Cougar's weakness, because that was undeniably what he was. Not that Jensen had ever doubted that they were close — being best friends and all that — but he hadn't known just what kind of sway he had over Cougar. He hadn't known how completely it would ruin Cougar, if something happened to Jensen.

It felt surreal.

And when you added the whole love thing, well, Jensen wasn't ashamed to admit that it had taken him three days to even wrap his head around it. Even _then_ he wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not. He didn't feel anywhere near Cougar's league. Fact was, Jensen knew that he wasn't, not with his annoying personality and slight attention deficit, but Cougar didn't seem to care. Cougar rarely seemed to care about things like that.

Jensen would have loved to talk to Cougar about it — straighten things out and explain that he loved Cougar in return — but he couldn't. He was stuck where he was, watching and waiting. He wasn't even sure for what. There wasn't much wrong with his physical body and he desperately wanted to wake up, but for some reason he didn't. Over a month had passed, but there had been no change.

It was actually difficult to say if Cougar had given up or not. Or maybe it wasn't a matter of giving up as much as it was admitting that Jensen might not wake up from this. Either way, Cougar was difficult to read. He was angry and increasingly depressed, yes, but he might still be in denial about the whole thing. Even Jensen had a hard time pinpointing what was going on inside Cougar's head.

A part of him didn't even want to know.

It was bad enough to watch Cougar, day after day, and see how he grew more and more quiet and withdrawn. How his eyes seemed dull and lifeless, and his movements mechanical — just basic reactions and reflexes rather than the smooth, deadly grace he usually possessed. It was as if he was shutting down, slowly but surely.

Cougar in mourning was heartbreaking.

It wasn't even a relief when Cougar's anger seemed to wane, since all that left was an empty shell that seemed far too caught up in his own thoughts to do anything but sit at Jensen's bedside, waiting patiently for him to wake up. Cougar was suffering in anguished, stoic silence, and no one seemed able to reach him. Not even Jensen.

The one who came the closest was Jess, which honestly wasn't that big of a surprise. Maybe it was because she wasn't a part of the team — as well as less emotionally constipated than Clay and Roque — or maybe it was because she was Jensen's sister. Either way, she was one of the few who Cougar was able to talk to without snapping. Part of it was probably guilt. Jensen was willing to bet that Cougar felt that he shouldn't cause Jess any more pain than he already had — never mind that neither Jess nor Jensen blamed him for the helicopter crash.

Cougar did, though.

It was so obvious that he did, in the way he could barely look at Jess when she stepped inside Jensen's hospital room, but still nodded politely — stiffly — because ignoring her would have been rude. Cougar ignored everyone else, but not her.

Jensen stood watching, hands shoved into his pockets and shoulders hunched. He hated this. He hated watching them grieve, but at least Beth wasn't there today. As much as Jensen loved seeing his niece, he hated the circumstances. The way she was timid and quiet, barely daring to touch his motionless body, probably afraid of hurting him or making things worse, even if Jess told her it was fine. Beth was so subdued when she came to visit, her big, blue eyes shiny with tears and innocent, childlike grief that seemed to be equal parts confusion and sadness. As if she couldn't understand why this was happening, let alone grasp the magnitude of it.

Jensen was pretty sure that Jess didn't bring her not only to spare Beth, but because Cougar looked like he was getting his chest ripped open every time he caught a glimpse of Beth's pain. Jess could hide hers to a certain point, being strong for her daughter, but Beth couldn't. And that only seemed to make Cougar feel guiltier.

Seeing children suffer always struck deep with Cougar.

"Beth says hi." Jess smiled, even if it didn't reach her eyes.

Cougar merely nodded, clearly knowing better than to attempt a responding smile. His silence wasn't all that surprising. Cougar spoke even less than usual, which meant that he was practically mute.

It suddenly struck Jensen that he hadn't heard Cougar speak since his promise not to leave Jensen's side, which had been four days ago. Cougar had communicated only through nods or shakes of his head since then, avoiding or ignoring questions that could require longer answers. It would probably continue to be that way. Jensen had no idea how they intended to work around that, if they managed to make Cougar come along for the mission that couldn't be more than a day away.

Jess pulled out a piece of paper from her purse, carefully unfolding it before placing it on Jensen's bedside table, next to the other drawings Beth had sent or brought. He had quite a collection by then, and it would have made him happy if it hadn't been for how they grew less and less colorful each time — as if the joy was slowly but surely being sucked out of his niece.

Jensen saw Cougar study the drawing from under the brim of his hat, but as expected, he didn't say anything. Neither did Jess. She was pulling one of the vacant chairs closer to Jensen's bedside. There was no mistaking her stiff posture as she sat down, spine straight and shoulders tense, but at the same time she looked exhausted. She pretty much mirrored Cougar as they sat on each side of Jensen, both of them quiet and barely holding it together.

"You guys look like shit," Jensen whispered, words choked. They didn't hear him, of course, but Jess sighed, rubbing a hand over her eyes.

"I'm guessing there's no change?" She had taken to asking Cougar instead of the doctors, either because he was a friendlier face — which was somewhat debatable considering his general countenance at the moment — or because he was usually as updated as they were.

Cougar shook his head, keeping it angled so that Jess saw nothing more than the brim of his hat and maybe a part of his chin. Jensen wanted to shake them both. As much as it warmed his heart to know that they cared so much for him, this was the last thing he wanted. He hated to see them suffer.

"Well, at least he isn't getting worse." It was a pathetic attempt at cheering them up and Jess obviously knew it to, judging by the slight grimace she made just after having spoken. "Christ. I never thought I'd resort to grasping for straws like this."

Jensen closed his eyes and breathed through the flare of pain in his chest. God, how he hated this.

" _Perdóname_." Cougar's voice was so rough from disuse that Jensen flinched, barely even recognizing it. The fact that Cougar managed to speak without it breaking was a miracle.

Jess seemed to want to cringe in sympathy. She caught herself, however, her expression smoothing out when Cougar looked up, just enough to catch her gaze for a brief but meaningful second.

"What for, Cougar?" she asked softly, obviously understanding that if Cougar spoke of his own volition, she should make sure to listen. The look in her eyes suggested that she might in fact have been waiting for him to do so for quite a while now. Jensen sure had. He knew what would come next, if only because he knew Cougar so well.

" _No pude_ —" Cougar cut himself off, obviously realizing that he was speaking Spanish, not English. Jess could understand some of it, Jensen knew, but not complicated sentences. Cougar breathed in slowly before starting over. "I couldn't protect him. I'm sorry."

Jess' expression almost crumpled. Jensen had no problem understanding why, if she felt even half as heartbroken as he did.

"Cougs, don't do this to yourself," Jensen pleaded, just a fraction of a second before Jess spoke.

"Oh, Cougar, you didn't fail him. I know you didn't."

Jensen was grateful for having such an awesome sister. She looked close to tears, sure, but she obviously knew better than to blame this whole tragedy on Cougar.

"I should have kept him safe." Cougar's voice was still cracked and raw, but there was a steadily growing firmness underneath it. Jensen wasn't sure if he preferred that over the indifference from the past couple of days. Cougar being firm meant Cougar being stubborn, and they didn't need that right now.

"As much as it might surprise you to hear this, you're not all-powerful, Cougar," Jess replied, her tone patient, but not without an equally stubborn hint. She was a formidable opponent and wouldn't go down without a fight — Jensen knew this firsthand. "You can't be everywhere at once, and you can't shoulder the responsibility for everything that goes wrong."

The set of Cougar's jaw said that he was damn well going to try.

Jess sighed.

"Cougar, please. I haven't been told what happened since it's confidential and all that, but I know that you would do your utmost to keep him safe. You would probably—"

"I should have been faster. I should have—"

"I wasn't done," Jess snapped, meeting Cougar's glare head on. Jensen could almost feel the power struggle between them, but he already knew who would win. In any other situation it would take a lot more before Cougar averted his gaze, but this was Jess — Jensen's sister — and Cougar clearly still couldn't face her without feeling guilty.

Jess didn't look the least bit triumphant when Cougar eventually looked away, going back to staring at his hands. In a way, it was almost amusing to see how neither of them were looking at Jensen, even if he was right there, lying in the bed between them. Jensen suspected that they weren't avoiding it, per se, but it looked rather comical all the same, especially from where he was standing by the foot of the bed. They didn't touch him either, but Cougar never did that when someone else was in the room. Jensen wasn't sure why, but he suspected that it had to do with Cougar's guilt, or possibly because he felt too vulnerable whenever he did, not wanting anyone else to see it.

"I don't blame you for what happened," Jess said, voice firm and unrelenting. "Neither does Beth. I can tell that this is eating you up inside, but you have nothing to feel guilty for, Cougar. I wasn't there, but I know you would do everything within your power to save him." She smiled, aching and soft. "I'm not blind, you know. Jake might be too stupid to see it, but I'm not."

"Hey!" Jensen exclaimed, insulted.

Jess, unsurprisingly, didn't hear him.

"I know you would rather it be you, Cougar. You wouldn't hesitate to take his place." Jess moved closer to the edge of her seat, reaching out to lay her hand on top of Jensen's motionless one. She looked up at Jensen's face before turning to Cougar again. "But I'm telling you — that's not what I want, and it's definitely not what Jake would want."

Her smile was soft when Cougar looked up, if only briefly. Jensen kind of wanted to smile too, but he wasn't sure if he could. This probably wasn't something he should listen in to, but he couldn't quite bring himself to leave, either.

"He would be so pissed if he saw you right now."

Jensen grinned, but it wasn't a particularly happy one.

"You're right about that, sis."

"You know he wouldn't blame you, Cougar. And you know what would happen if he found out how much you're suffering." Jess' voice was closer to a gentle whisper by then. "He would be devastated, Cougar, and he would tell you, just like I am now, that it's not your fault. You shouldn't feel guilty."

Cougar wasn't looking at her. To Jensen it seemed as if Cougar was unable to look at anything but his own tightly clenched fists. It wasn't anger, though — Jensen could tell the difference — but rather a kind of desperation that was probably breaking Cougar down one inch at a time. Cougar _wanted_ to cling to his guilt. If he felt guilty about the past, he wouldn't have to face the future and the loss waiting for him there. But that wasn't how you moved on in times of grief.

Jensen felt his heart stutter in his chest when he realized that he actually _wanted_ Cougar to move on.

Suddenly, with stunning clarity, Jensen realized that as much as he wanted to wake up, not even he thought he would. As much as it pained him to be in the situation, all he wanted was for Cougar to stop suffering — even if it meant leaving Jensen behind.

Jensen treated himself as if he was already dead.

"Take some time and think about it, okay?"

Jensen barely heard Jess' words, too shaken by his own epiphany. But he did see Cougar's nod, hesitant and stiff as it may be. It only made Jensen feel worse.

He hadn't given up. He wanted to wake up. He wanted to get back to his family and hug Beth and Jess again and tell Cougar that he loved him and punch him for being so stupid as to take on all the blame for an accident he had no part in. Jensen wanted all of that.

He hadn't given up. He hadn't.

Had he?

"You solved it? How?" Roque asked, a frown marring his scarred face. It looked more menacing than usual, even if the subject wasn't a bad one. Clay actually had good news to deliver for a change.

"I got Cougar declared unfit for duty. At least for now," Clay explained, but he looked tired rather than triumphant. "Psychological reasons."

"He hasn't been to another evaluation, has he? He was cleared when we got back a month ago." Pooch was frowning as well, his arms crossed over his chest and expression uneasy.

Possibly because they were discussing Cougar's mental health while the man himself wasn't there. Not that Jensen could blame them, considering the big issue it had turned out to be. Cougar wasn't up for discussing things like that — never had been — and if he ever found out, he would no doubt use them all for target practice.

If he could tear himself away from Jensen's bedside long enough to fetch his rifle, that was.

Jensen was there mostly because he hadn't been able to stand the look of steadily growing despair on Cougar's face, and gone off to find something less depressing to watch. He hadn't actually planned on stumbling in on the conversation he was now an invisible spectator of, but it did concern him. Sorta.

"No, he hasn't," Clay confirmed, "so I had to call in a favor to make it seem like he has. With Cougar benched, they won't send us on another mission. Replacing one soldier might be possible, but two will create too much friction and instability within the team. They won't risk it."

"So you're letting Cougar take the heat for this one, are you?" Pooch snapped, jaws clenched in agitation. "This will remain on his records, Clay. Being declared unfit due to psychological—"

"He's _not_ fit, is he?" Clay barked angrily. "Do you think he would do well if we forced him? Do you think he wouldn't be court marshaled if he refused orders? For fuck's sake, Pooch! I don't want this any more than you do!"

Jensen swallowed, looking down at his feet to avoid having to see the tired, defeated look on Clay's face. They were all running low on patience, snapping and snarling long before they usually would.

"Being declared momentarily unfit for duty is better than a dishonorable discharge," Roque pushed in, his voice low.

They weren't wrong, Jensen had to admit that, but he still hated how they went about it. He loathed the fact that Clay had been forced to go to such lengths to straighten out the situation to the best of his abilities. It wasn't an ideal solution, but it might be the best one they had, for the time being.

Jensen still hated it.

Pooch did too, judging by the stubborn look on his face. But he didn't argue further. He just pushed off from the wall he had been leaning against and left the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Cougar is going to be pissed when you tell him," Roque pointed out, his eyes remaining on the door through with Pooch had just left.

"If he's even present enough to understand the consequences of it," Clay answered while pinching the bridge of his nose.

Roque remained silent for a second before shaking his head, looking sadder than Jensen had seen in a long time.

"Yeah, let's hope he is."

Cougar took it better than any of them had expected. He definitely narrowed his eyes in displeasure over having this done behind his back, but instead of getting ready to dole out due punishment, he seemed to embrace the benefits. It solved the issue with him not wanting to go on a mission while Jensen was still in a coma.

Not to mention that Cougar really didn't seem to care about his career anymore. Whether or not his records would state that he at one point had been too psychologically unstable to be fit for duty didn't seem to matter. Which didn't make Jensen feel any better.

But that was partly because he still couldn't quite decide what his own motivations were. He _wanted_ to wake up, he was sure of that. He didn't want to die and he felt a painful sting at the very thought of being forgotten, but that went against his willingness to see Cougar deal with his grief. But maybe that was his backup plan; if Jensen didn't wake up, he wanted to be sure that Cougar was okay.

Still, Jensen couldn't deny that the lack of change was getting him down. He had stopped trying to talk to people, which left him in silence most of the time, and he spent less time wandering around the hospital, seeking out things to entertain him.

He took to sitting on the floor in his room instead, since he had figured out long ago that while he couldn't sit in a chair without sinking through, the floor worked just fine. It made very little sense to him, but offered some much needed variation. Not that he ever got tired from standing all day, but he definitely got bored.

Cougar was there, as he usually was, and another week passed quicker than it should have. To the point where Jensen started wondering if he had missed big parts of it. Before everything had seemed to drag on, one painstaking minute at a time, but now the sun rose much quicker than he had expected, and he couldn't quite remember if he had been present for the doctor's regular visits to check up on him.

It scared him.

If Jensen was losing time, it could mean that he was losing his grip on whatever it was that kept him there. He might be on his way to disappear entirely.

He might be dying.

But there was no one to share his worries with — at least not in a way that they could acknowledge or respond to. The isolation was driving Jensen insane. The only reason he had managed this long without breaking down was probably because he could still hear the others. He could still listen and take part in their lives, even if he couldn't affect them. He still felt involved, however indirectly.

But he wasn't sure how long it would last, or what would happen if they stopped visiting him. So in a way, he was grateful for Cougar's near constant presence, since it gave Jensen something to cling to — someone to ground him.

Which was their relationship in a nutshell, really.

Neither of them were good company, though, both of them sinking deeper and deeper into their own thoughts. More often than not, they just sat on different ends of the room, not speaking or even looking at each other. Then again, Cougar couldn't very well look at Jensen since he wasn't even aware of him being there — besides from the obvious comatose body stuck in the hospital bed.

Jensen rarely looked at himself if he could help it. Seeing his own body was kind of creepy.

Cougar was the opposite, sometimes staring at Jensen's unmoving face to the point where he couldn't possibly be seeing anything anymore. He still only touched Jensen when they were alone — soft brushes of his fingers along Jensen's hand and arm, or running his fingers through Jensen's hair — and he did it with the same kind of aching softness as before. There was so much love and gentleness in what he did that it hurt to look at.

Jensen wasn't sure how much more he could take.

Which might have been why he found himself speaking into the silence one afternoon, despite knowing that Cougar couldn't hear him. Jensen sat cross-legged on the floor, angled so that he could see Cougar clearly, but ignore the hospital bed and the body lying in it.

"This is really shitty," Jensen mumbled, rubbing his nose before sighing. "I mean, I love you and you love me, but if things remain like they are now, we'll never get to cherish it." He looked up at Cougar, seeing the detached look on his face. "Especially you, Coug. You won't even know that I love you back. Which is just beyond unfair."

Jensen looked down at his hands, opening and closing them a couple of times, as if to test their functionality.

"I wish you knew how much I love you, Cougar. I've loved you for a long time now. I just can't help it." Jensen smiled faintly, but without much happiness. "I never thought I'd have a chance with someone like you, you know, since you're so cool and badass. And knowing that I do, man... that alone would make me cling to this stupid, half-assed existence of mine. I don't want to let go. I just—"

Jensen fell silent, frozen stiff by his own words.

Was that it?

What if he wasn't supposed to wake up? What if he should have died already, but hadn't because he refused to stop breathing.

He swallowed harshly before looking up at Cougar, knowing that none of his emotional turmoil registered with the other person in the room. Jensen was invisible. He wasn't there. He couldn't talk or feel anything. Cougar couldn't see him.

Maybe he wasn't supposed to. Maybe it was already too late, and Jensen was drawing out their pain by not dying and giving them closure. Maybe Jensen was the one causing them all this pain.

"Cougar," Jensen whispered, suddenly horrified, "is this my fault?"

He struggled to his feet but didn't dare to step closer to the bed — closer to Cougar.

"Should I— would it be better if I died?"

Jensen swallowed, hating that Cougar couldn't hear him, not even now. Cougar just sat there with the same vacant look on his face as before. Jensen wanted to feel angry, but all that did was make him miserable.

Maybe Jensen wasn't meant to wake up again.

"Would it be easier for you if I died?" Jensen asked, voice breaking with barely restrained agony. "Maybe I shouldn't be fighting to wake up. Maybe I should let go instead."

The words had barely passed his lips before a high-pitched beep shattered the near silence in the room, bouncing against the walls and making Jensen jump in fright. It took him a second to even realize what it was.

His heart monitor.

Jensen was flatlining.

Cougar's head snapped up and the sheer look of panic on his face was indescribable. He shot up from his chair so quickly that it tipped over and clattered to the floor, but Cougar didn't seem to care. He dove forward, grabbing Jensen's hand with one of his and letting the other bury in Jensen's hair, as if to physically hold him there and keep him from leaving. To ground them both as the heart monitor kept screaming.

" _No, no, por favor, no_ ," Cougar mumbled breathlessly, the syllables almost blending together in his haste to speak. Cougar's gaze flickered back and forth, as if he was desperately looking for some way to fix it — to keep Jensen from dying. "Jake, _por favor, no lo hagas_."

Jensen stood frozen, not knowing what to do. Something seemed to have lodged in his throat and he couldn't breathe, much less talk. The sound of the shrieking heart monitor was loud in his ears and his head started spinning.

Jensen's body still wasn't moving. It just lay there on the bed, limp and useless. Dying. His heart had stopped beating.

Without thinking Jensen raised one of his hands, placing it against his chest.

He couldn't feel a thing. His heart wasn't beating anymore.

Jensen was dying.

" _Te lo ruego_ , Jake." Cougar sounded closer to frantic than Jensen had ever heard him. He didn't seem able to tear his eyes away from Jensen's deceptively serene face, even as hospital personnel came rushing into the room. " _No te mueras. No me dejes aquí solo_." Cougar's voice almost cracked, and the hand that was running through Jensen's hair was shaking. " _Por el amor de Dios, no te mueras_."

Jensen had never actually seen Cougar cry before, but he was pretty certain that he would now, if the doctors didn't manage to get Jensen's heart to start beating again.

Cougar looked close to breaking.

He did move out of the way, though, once a nurse motioned for him to do so, obviously still reasonable enough to realize that anything else would only make things worse. He didn't stop staring, however. His eyes — wide with fear and panic — didn't leave Jensen for a second, as if he thought that Jensen would disappear the moment he did.

This wasn't what Jensen had wanted. He hadn't meant for this to happen.

The lump in his throat wouldn't move and something painful was growing in his chest, resting right there under his palm. He still couldn't breathe. He didn't stumble but felt off-kilter all the same — as if he was shifting out of alignment.

Or losing his grip on the world.

He hadn't meant for this to happen. He didn't want to cause the mind-numbing pain he saw on Cougar's face. This wasn't what he wanted. Jensen felt the burn of tears like a distant sting, barely even there, his limbs suddenly growing heavy and unmanageable.

The doctors and nurses were shouting but Jensen couldn't hear what they were saying. He was too busy staring at the look of horror on Cougar's face. Jensen could see Cougar mumble something, but he was too far away to hear what.

Not to mention that black spots were beginning to dance across Jensen's vision.

He wanted to reply — to offer some feeble attempt at comfort — but his lips were numb and his throat tight. Speaking felt impossible. He couldn't even place the emotion swirling inside of him, part panic and part something else that could be regret, or maybe even guilt.

This wasn't how he wanted to make things easier for Cougar.

Jensen didn't actually want to die, but he wasn't sure if he could change it now. His body didn't obey him.

Cougar looked like he was breaking.

Everything went black.

Jensen came to much like he had when this whole thing began. He couldn't say how he got there, how long he had been gone, or where he had been before it. But when he opened his eyes he found himself standing at the foot of his hospital bed, looking down at himself.

His living, breathing self.

He was alive, if still comatose.

The sight of Cougar hunched over, forehead resting against his hands — clasped around Jensen's limp one — smothered what little relief Jensen felt. He could hear voices outside his door and he was willing to bet that it was either the team or his sister. As bad as Jensen felt for giving them the scare he had, it was Cougar he was most concerned with.

Jensen could hear a soft mumble coming from Cougar, and even without stepping closer Jensen knew he was praying — desperately, hopelessly praying for Jensen to wake up. Or maybe just to stay alive after nearly dying without as much as a second's warning.

This was the first time in over a month that Jensen had shown any kind of change, and it was far from a good one. Jensen wasn't even sure what had caused it, but he sure as hell knew that it had terrified Cougar beyond belief.

Jensen tried to swallow the lump in his throat when he saw the way Cougar's shoulders trembled, ever so subtly.

"Shit. I'm so, so sorry, Cougs." Jensen walked up, reaching out towards Cougar's shoulder. He caught himself in time, though — just shy of touching him — and quickly pulled his hand back again. He didn't want to see his fingers pass through Cougar, just like with everything else he had tried to touch lately. "I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen. I honestly don't want to die. I just... thought that maybe it would be easier for you if I did."

Jensen felt helpless, unable to comfort or reassure. He had to settle for falling to his knees next to Cougar's chair, but he couldn't touch him — not even brace against the chair itself.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again," Jensen whispered, words trembling and eyes burning. "I won't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Cougs."

Cougar didn't hear him.

"Please stop hurting. Please, Cougar." Jensen was rambling, but somehow it seemed fitting.

His useless, helpless pleas mingled with Cougar's heartfelt, aching prayers, echoing in the barren room, the machines hooked up to Jensen providing a numbing background noise. It could have been peaceful, had it not been for the desperation to the Spanish prayers and Jake's stumbling pleas.

"I'm so, so sorry. I wish I knew how to f-fix this." Jensen choked on a sob and buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deep breaths. Calm, deep breaths, my lovelies, and maybe a tissue or two if you need it. 
> 
> I know it hurts but things will get better. Just hang in there. One more week.


	3. Acceptance

 

* * *

 

Jensen was exhausted. He wasn't sure how that worked with him not getting tired, but there was no other way to explain the weariness he was feeling. He was just so sick of everything. Sick of trying to maintain hope that he would wake up, sick of being angry, sick of guessing what he could have done differently, and sick of feeling so fucking depressed all the time. He didn't want to die — or give up for that matter — but he didn't seem to have many options to choose from.

He was at the end of his rope.

The sudden heart failure he had experienced the week before was enough to show that he could still die without warning. Granted, it seemed to have been brought on by Jensen's own thoughts, not something physical, but he had no proof. Not to mention that it sounded completely insane.

Then again, hovering around your comatose body like a ghost probably wasn't within the realms of what was considered reasonable either.

Jensen sucked in a deep breath before walking over to where Cougar sat on the roof, back leaning against the wall running along its edge. Cougar had been doing that more and more often the past couple of days, just sitting there, staring up at the sky and slowly turning one of Jensen's USB-drives over in his hand. Jensen had no idea why Cougar had it, but he recognized it as one of his personal drives, with chosen music and perhaps a movie or two, that Jensen thought he had lost over half a year ago. Cougar, the bastard, had obviously been lying when he had denied knowing anything about its whereabouts.

Then again, it was sort of sweet, in a weird way.

Jensen would have been worried about Cougar's continued silence and sudden shift in behavior, if it hadn't been for the fact that Cougar actually left Jensen's bedside now, rather than spend an unhealthy amount of time waiting for him to wake up. At least Cougar got some fresh air and seemed to be slightly more present.

In a way it surprised Jensen, since he thought that him almost dying would have made Cougar less willing to leave the hospital room, but that wasn't the case.

As terrified as both of them had been, it seemed to have served as a much needed eye-opener as well. It had pushed every single one of their fears to the forefront until they were impossible to ignore. It had broken the suffocating stalemate brought on my Jensen's coma.

In some weird way Jensen suspected that both of them had needed the scare, because it forced them to get their priorities straight. It made him get a much clearer picture of what they were dealing with.

He sat down next to Cougar, legs folded and elbows braced against his own knees. He knew better than to lean back against the wall, not wanting to sink through it. Cougar was staring at nothing in particular, but his eyes were less dull than they had been a week ago. He still looked miserable, with dark smudges under his eyes and tired, tight lines around his mouth, but at the same time less _dead_ — in lack of a better word.

He looked like he might be beginning to figure out how to cope.

Jensen breathed out, offering a lopsided smile he knew Cougar couldn't see.

"This is such a fucking mess, Cougs," Jensen said softly, fondness bleeding into his voice. "But I'm glad you look better. I'm still sorry for scaring you, but I think maybe we both needed that. Almost dying... well, I think it was necessary, to figure out what I actually want."

He closed his eyes, pretending that he could feel the soft caress of the wind when he, in actuality, felt nothing at all.

"I mean, I don't want to die. I always knew that, but now I'm sort of... dealing with the fact that I might. As much as it would hurt you, we have to accept that it might happen, just like we have to accept that maybe I won't wake up from this." It was difficult — not to mention painful — to put his thoughts into words, but Jensen felt like he had to share them, even if Cougar couldn't hear him. "I can't force it. I've been trying to wake up, but I can't. And as soon as I started thinking about dying, I almost did."

Jensen looked at Cougar, who shifted, drawing up his knees to brace his folded arms against them. Jensen knew it had nothing to do with him or what he was saying, but it made him smile all the same. Cougar had the USB-drive in his left hand, fingers closed firmly around the small piece of plastic. It was shaped like a tiny, pink robot, which was why Jensen was pretty certain that it was his and not Cougar's. Unless they suddenly had the same taste in gadgetry, which he sincerely doubted.

"I think that, maybe, we just have to accept the situation for what it is," he continued. "If I die, I die. If I don't wake up, I don't. Nothing more to it."

He felt pretty stupid sitting there, talking to himself. It was one thing to do it when he knew that Cougar might be listening, but now — when it was physically impossible for him to do so — it just felt weird.

"I'm... scared, Coug, not gonna lie. Really, fucking scared, but as dorky as this might sound, at least I know you love me. Whatever happens, I'll treasure that. Even if you will get on with your life and I'll waste away in that hospital bed until I die, you'll still love me, right?" Jensen's breath trembled as he exhaled. "Just like I'll always love you."

Cougar didn't reply, but he honestly didn't have to, either. Jensen had seen the pain Cougar had gone through ever since Jensen's accident — the grief, panic, and helpless anger — and he had no doubt in his mind that Cougar loved him, possibly more than was strictly healthy.

Cougar rarely did things by halves, after all. It wasn't his style.

"I'm happy I found out about that." Jensen smiled, looking up at the bright blue sky. "I mean, it still sucks to be stuck here like I am, but you told me that you love me. I never thought I'd be that lucky."

His shoulders sagged and he threw Cougar another glance, not surprised to find that he hadn't moved.

"You know, if I do wake up, I think I'll quit. The army, I mean." Jensen scratched the back of his neck, feeling a twist of anxiety in his gut. "I still like it and I don't regret choosing this profession, but this was a very close call, you know? If I get a second chance, it feels like I should treasure it. And it's not like I can't find, like, a hundred other careers to pursue." He gestured distractedly. "And there's no telling if I'll be up for it mentally. I might freeze as soon as I step onto another chopper. And I don't think Jess would want me to keep going either. Not after I— almost died."

The look that had been on Jess' face when she came to visit after Jensen had stabilized from his sudden heart failure wasn't something he ever wanted to see again. She hadn't even had the strength to look worried, instead landing somewhere close to catatonic. If he had died, she would probably have shut down completely.

It was up to Jensen to make sure that she never had to.

"I won't ask you to come with me because I know how important the team is to you, and if I wake up you won't have a reason to neglect your duties anymore." Jensen looked at Cougar, smiling dorkily. "But you'd let me love you, right? Maybe even take me on a date? I bet you rock at romantic dates."

Jensen sighed, turning his gaze back towards the sky.

"Yeah, I bet you do..." he mumbled longingly.

Cougar shifted again, his right hand ending up on the ground between them. Jensen looked down at it, glad to see that whatever abuse Cougar had subjected his knuckles to by punching walls hadn't left any lingering marks.

"I love you, Cougar," Jensen blurted out, just because he could. Just because he couldn't get enough of saying it out loud — as if it became truer for each time he did. "If I wake up, I'll make sure to tell you, I promise you that. I'll love you for as long as you'll let me, and I'll make sure to make all of this up to you." He felt a pleasant tingle in his chest. "I promise, Cougar. I'll fix it."

Without thinking Jensen reached out, placing his hand on top of Cougar's, feeling the warmth of Cougar's skin against his own.

"I love you so much."

It took a couple of seconds before Jensen was able to open his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy and might as well have been glued shut for all he knew. Everything was blurry when he finally managed, and he could see nothing but the indistinct mass of the white ceiling.

He wasn't wearing his glasses.

Something was picking at the back of his mind, trying to catch his attention, but he couldn't for the life of him pinpoint what it was. He felt tired and sluggish, and when he tried to swallow, he almost whimpered in pain. His throat was so dry he could barely breathe.

That made no sense — very little made sense, as a matter of fact. His memory was fuzzy at best, but he had the distinct feeling that he was missing something. He wasn't quite sure where he was, either, but he didn't feel like he was in danger, which was definitely a plus.

He could feel fabric under his hands — sheets, he guessed, since he was lying down — but he was pretty sure he wasn't in his own bed. The steady, rhythmic beeps that seemed to match his heartbeat were familiar, echoing hollowly in what had to be a pretty barren room.

So a hospital, then.

Things were slowly but surely coming back to him, even if there were some things that were left completely blank, and others that didn't make much sense at all.

He remembered the crash. The creaks and groans from the chopper as it went down. Someone shouting his name over the comms. Desperate. Panicked. The mind-numbing chill when he realized what was going to happen; how much pain he was going to be in within a matter of seconds. His own voice, calling out for Cougar, because if Jensen was going to die, he wanted to have said his name one last time. Then everything went black.

His memories should have stopped there — that was usually how it went. He got hurt and eventually woke up at the hospital, slightly worse for wear, but alive.

But that wasn't the case this time.

The collection of hazy memories that trickled in had him frowning in confusion. Those couldn't be true. There were a lot of them, filled with pain, grief, and suffering. It made very little sense.

Walking around outside of his own body?

That was weird, even for Jensen.

Still, he couldn't deny that they felt very real, especially when he considered what he remembered about Cougar, Jess, Beth, and his team. How much they had suffered. How they had _grieved_.

Jensen turned his head, finding the chair next to his bed empty. His vision might be blurry without his glasses, but he could tell that much. Wasn't Cougar supposed to be sitting in it? Or maybe those memories were just hallucinations brought on by too much pain medication.

Jensen closed his eyes and took a tentative breath, allowing himself to relax against the mattress and soak up the stillness in the room. He felt surprisingly pain-free, so whatever injuries he had had must have healed already, or been less serious than he had feared. He carefully sorted through the various impressions he was bombarded with, and couldn't help feeling a flutter in his chest when a particular memory leapt at him.

Cougar had told him he loved him.

Unless it was just Jensen's wishful thinking, of course. But it felt so real. Jensen wanted desperately for it to be real.

Maybe he could ask when Cougar arrived. He had to come visit sooner or later. And then Jensen would make sure to let him know that he loved him back. He had waited a long time to say that to Cougar, but never dared to, what with DADT and them being best friends and all. It was too much of a gamble, and Jensen didn't want to ruin a perfectly perfect friendship on a whim.

But if it was true, Jensen could say it. Cougar already had.

It didn't take long at all before Jensen started feeling an urge to move — if only to get something to drink — but his limbs refused to obey him. He wasn't sure exactly how long he had been lying there but he guessed on quite a while, if his muscles had had time to become as weak as they felt now.

A month? No, more than a month.

Jensen wondered if he might be able to reach the call button to ask for a nurse, but he couldn't find it — especially not without his glasses. He felt a twinge of annoyance. As disoriented as he might be, he was pretty certain that he should be getting a warmer welcome than the one he was currently facing. Then again, if he remembered correctly, they hadn't thought he would wake up.

_He_ hadn't thought he would.

Jensen frowned, feeling the lingering burn of resigned helplessness. He had thought he would never wake up. Everything was still a bit hazy, but he knew that much. He had started to accept the fact that he probably wouldn't get to talk to Cougar again, or hug Beth and Jess.

But now he could. He had woken up. So he saw very little reason to linger on what could have been. No, if anything he needed to find Cougar and tell him that he loved him. And also forward the news that Jensen planned to quit the army, since he had a distinct memory of promising himself that — for Jess' sake, if nothing else.

Jensen couldn't say what it was exactly — he couldn't see all that far, and it wasn't a reaction to a sound either — but he suddenly felt compelled to turn his head towards the doorway, somehow not the least bit surprised to see a figure standing there. It was instinct, pure and simple. He smiled faintly, his fingers doing a pathetic little wave, unable to lift his hand much higher than that. Jensen could recognize that hat even when he wasn't wearing his glasses.

Cougar didn't move.

Jensen frowned, blinking a couple of times, but Cougar still didn't move. It was slightly worrying, but when Jensen tried to speak all that came out was a half-choked squawk. Despite the fact that he hadn't been able to form any words, it seemed to have been enough for Cougar to snap into action.

He was by Jensen's bedside in a matter of a couple of strides. Jensen didn't even have to make another failed attempt at talking before Cougar was complying, slipping Jensen's glasses onto his nose. Trust Cougar to know what he wanted without Jensen having to ask for it.

His smile grew wider when he could finally see more clearly, ignoring the slight sting of worry he felt when he noticed the blank look on Cougar's face. Maybe he was in shock. Jensen waking up hadn't exactly been expected. But he couldn't deny that he had hoped for Cougar to look at least a little bit happier at the news.

Jensen tried clearing his throat, but all that did was make it close up. Whatever noise Jensen made was bad enough to cause Cougar to cringe, which might be why he quickly located a glass of water. Jensen drank gratefully through the provided straw, almost sighing from relief when he felt the water soothe his parched throat. He licked his lips once the straw was pulled away, grimacing at how chapped they were.

"Hi," he slurred, voice raw but fond.

He wiggled his fingers, catching Cougar's attention and making him look down at Jensen's hand. Cougar's face remained expressionless and blank, though, and to Jensen's disappointment, Cougar didn't take his hand.

Jensen frowned, feeling his heart clench.

Why wouldn't Cougar take his hand? Was Cougar against touching him? Or was he still in shock? Cougar did look a bit weird. Was something wrong?

Jensen tried to hold it back, but panic flared in his chest. He was still disoriented from waking up, and he had a hard time grasping what was going on. Cougar wouldn't usually mind, would he?

Had Jensen done something wrong?

"I-I..." Jensen swallowed down the lump in his throat, struggling to form the words he so desperately wanted to say before he lost his nerve — before the doubts started trickling in. He knew he had to say this. "I... love you t-too."

Cougar looked up, his eyes wide with surprise. Jensen felt a burn behind his eyelids.

"I l-love you. I need you... to know." Jensen blinked several times but the blur didn't go away. "I'm sorry. I t-tried to wake up. I did. I tried. I'm sorry—"

"Sssh, _cálmate_ , Jake." Cougar's voice was soft but urgent. " _Relájate_. It's okay."

Jensen wasn't aware of how fast his heart was beating until he saw Cougar throw a worried glance towards the beeping heart monitor. Jensen swallowed again, shivering when he felt Cougar's hand wander into his hair, just like he had seen Cougar do countless times before, but never actually felt. The touch was gentle enough to make Jensen sob, a tear sneaking out from the corner of his eye. It was wiped away before it had travelled very far, and he allowed himself to suck in a relieved breath.

Cougar was smiling now. It looked like it hurt — as if he had forgotten how — but he was smiling. His eyes were wider and glassier than usual, his blank expression having given way for a complex mix of emotions that Jensen couldn't quite name in his disoriented state. It looked mostly happy, though.

That had to be a good sign.

Jensen didn't relax entirely until Cougar took his hand. Jensen didn't have much strength, but he made sure to squeeze Cougar's fingers, a smile growing on his face when Cougar raised their entwined hands to his lips and kissed Jensen's knuckles.

"Okay?" Jensen croaked, not quite sure in what capacity he was asking — perhaps all of them.

Cougar took a deep breath before he nodded.

" _Sí_. It will be." Cougar's other hand was still treading through Jensen's hair. "Now it will be."

For the moment, that was more than enough.

"Hey, Cougar?" Jensen reveled in seeing Cougar look up from the medical chart, his gaze focused and expression attentive. How Jensen had missed that. "I'm going to quit the army."

Maybe he could have been more considerate and given Cougar some kind of heads up, but after having been unable to speak to someone for so long Jensen wanted to get it out there, no matter if it happened to come out a tiny bit unintelligible. So many things were begging to be uttered, and it manifested in the shape of random outbursts and blurted out sentences of varying degrees of coherency.

Cougar gave him a steady look before calmly closing Jensen's chart. The doctor had been in to give Jensen a series of checkups and confirm that he didn't seem to show any signs of brain damage or lingering side effects so far, but they would perform more tests later, just to make sure. Jess had been notified about Jensen's return to the land of the waking and was en route — the same applying to the rest of the team — but until then it was just him and Cougar.

That suited Jensen just fine.

"Okay." Cougar hung the chart at the foot of the bed before walking up to stand at Jensen's side.

Jensen was still not in total control of his limbs — and wouldn't be until he had been put through a couple of weeks of physical therapy — so Cougar was the one who took Jensen's hand, seemingly sensing that he needed as much physical contact as he could possibly get.

He probably would for a long time to come, now that he could finally feel it again. The warmth of Cougar's skin — even the smell of him — put Jensen at ease. He hadn't known how much he actually relied on things like that to ground him until he had been deprived of them completely. And he couldn't help clinging to them now, when he had finally gotten them back.

He needed to feel that he was actually there — firm and real and corporeal.

Jensen licked his lips.

"That's it?"

He wasn't sure what he had expected — since this was Cougar, after all — but he couldn't help thinking that there should have been something more than a simple 'okay'.

Cougar tilted his head to the side, back to looking calm and gathered, but there were still remnants of tenseness in his posture — as if he wasn't quite sure if this was real yet. He looked tired too, but Jensen suspected that it would take days for that to disappear. He hadn't been awake for more than two hours, and both of them had a lot of healing to do before they would be able to put this behind them.

"I understand," Cougar said with a soft shrug, but there was nothing nonchalant about it. His eyes said everything his words didn't. He wouldn't hold it against Jensen, not after what they had just been through. It was understandable if almost dying made Jensen want to rethink his life choices.

"Oh. Thanks." Jensen didn't know what else to say.

He still wasn't sure if he dared to ask Cougar to consider coming with him.

He loved Cougar, of that he was sure, and Cougar loved him, but that didn't mean that Cougar wanted to give up his career. Or even _had_ to. If they decided to pursue a relationship — which Jensen sure hoped they would, but all in due time — Cougar could still be a soldier if he wanted to. Just because Jensen quit didn't mean that Cougar had to do the same.

"I'll come with you."

Jensen almost flinched, his mouth opening in surprise.

"What?" It took a second for Cougar's words to register. "Oh. Wow. Okay. You really don't have to, man. I can't ask that of you—"

"I want to."

Jensen stopped breathing. The army had always seemed to be Cougar's main driving force. It was his family and salvation, all at once, and it was difficult seeing him leave it, just like that. Especially for someone like Jensen.

He swallowed nervously, his fingers squeezing tighter around Cougar's.

"You— why?" he asked, voice small, confused, and undeniably pathetic.

"I won't lose you," Cougar said without hesitation, the fingers of his free hand running along Jensen's arm, seemingly on their own accord. "I came close." Cougar shook his head. "Never again."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that _you_ have to quit," Jensen pointed out. Cougar only smiled, patience and affection shining in his eyes.

"It does. I want to be with you." Cougar sure knew how to make Jensen feel like his chest was bursting with happiness. He might even be blushing, but Jensen made a valiant attempt to ignore that.

Cougar seemed to be miles past hesitation, not bothering to hide just how much Jensen mattered to him. Before the crash, neither of them had ever said or done anything to show their interest, but that had obviously changed. Either because Jensen had told Cougar that he loved him back, or because Jensen's accident had forced them to face just how precious their time together was.

It was probably a combination of the two.

"I won't leave," Cougar vowed, much like he had almost three weeks ago.

Jensen smiled.

"Yeah, I know. You've said that already."

Cougar seemed to pause, his eyes narrowing in confusion. It wasn't until Jensen thought back on the exact situation that he even realized that he shouldn't have been able to hear that. Not when he had supposedly been deep under in a coma.

He honestly wasn't sure if he wanted Cougar to know about the weeks he had spent hovering around at the hospital like some restless ghost. He wasn't even sure how to explain all the things he had seen and experienced — all the private moments he had spied on. At least not now, when everything was still so raw. It wouldn't make things any easier for Cougar, and at the moment, Jensen's main concern was to make Cougar _less_ prone to a mental breakdown, not burden him with more emotional trauma.

"Too."

Jensen blinked.

"Huh?"

"You said too. You love me too." Cougar was frowning, but he looked confused rather than angry. "You heard me?"

Of course something like that wouldn't slip Cougar by. He was far too attentive for that. And Jensen wasn't sure if he could lie to Cougar's face, but that didn't mean that he had to explain every detail, either.

"Yeah, I guess I did."

Cougar obviously knew one of Jensen's evasive answers when he saw one, but he didn't seem prepared to question it. Things were still frail between them, and it wouldn't get any easier until they'd had time to deal with the inevitable fallout.

Jensen wasn't stupid enough to believe that everything was fine, but he was grateful that Cougar could prioritize. Fact was, Cougar was a fucking _master_ at prioritizing and being considerate when the occasion called for it.

"I love you." Jensen just had to say it again, when he was more lucid and Cougar wasn't caught between shock and disbelief at suddenly seeing him awake again.

Cougar smiled. It seemed to come easier and easier to him, and the brittle edge had vanished almost entirely. The shadows under his eyes might remain, but the immediate stress had lessened.

"I love you too."

There was nothing Jensen could do but grin — wide, dorky, and possibly a tiny bit dazed.

"That's so awesome," he mumbled happily, not caring if he looked stupid. Cougar seemed to find it endearing.

"I will come with you." Cougar obviously wanted to make sure that there were no doubts concerning that.

Jensen knew that he might be selfish for not trying to talk Cougar out of it, but he wouldn't have been able to do so and remain honest. He _wanted_ Cougar to come with him. It made him feel safer knowing that whatever he would face once quitting the army, he wouldn't do it alone.

Having Cougar by his side had always been a relief, and this was no different. It gave him a feeling of safety and stability that nothing else could.

" _Gracias_ ," Jensen said with a smile that might have trembled, just a little.

Cougar leaned forward to place a tender kiss on Jensen's forehead. It sent a shiver down Jensen's spine, and he couldn't help closing his eyes, soaking up the closeness when Cougar lingered, his breaths a soft whisper against Jensen's skin.

" _De nada_."

Jensen opened his eyes, looking up at Cougar.

"Next kiss better be on my lips, Romeo."

Cougar scoffed, but it was unmistakably fond rather than annoyed. And he leaned in the last inch soon enough, his lips ghosting over Jensen's. The kiss was soft, chaste, and unbelievably perfect. Jensen was pretty certain that he never wanted to kiss another person than Cougar for the rest of his life, but he'd wait a while before dropping that particular bombshell.

For now he could settle for watching the glorious smile on Cougar's lips and feel the lingering taste of him on his own. Things were far from fine, but they were definitely getting better. Jensen longed to see his sister and niece again — and actually be able to _talk_ to and _touch_ them — and wanted to reassure Pooch, Clay, and Roque that he would be okay.

All in due time.

Right then and there, he just squeezed Cougar's hand a little tighter and was grateful that he had woken up. He still wasn't quite sure why, but he was willing to embrace it. He got his life back. He got a second chance.

He was damn well going to use it.

Jensen sifted through the contents of the box in front of him, his lips pursed in frustration. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a chaotic mess of bags and boxes, some of them disorganized to the point where not even Jensen could make sense of the filing system that might supposedly be involved. He had no idea why he had kept half of it, much less how on earth he had manage to convince Jess to let him store the boxes at her house. He had a vague memory of not wanting to drag it all to the house the team had shared on base, and he totally understood why, now that he saw the sheer amount of junk he owned.

It was mildly intimidating.

"Cougar!" Jensen shouted over his shoulder, his voice echoing in the practically empty apartment. "Where do you suppose I would put my books? I know I have some but I can't—"

"With the music!" Cougar called back from the kitchen, busy putting away the newly purchased cutlery.

Jensen shuffled around until he could snag the edge of the box marked with a note, pulling it towards him. Once he had moved some old CDs to the side he found the books he had been looking for, just like Cougar had promised.

"Huh." Jensen picked them up, placing them in a stack on the floor, soon to be moved to the bookshelf and integrated with Cougar's much bigger collection of reading material. "I'm pretty sure someone shouldn't know a person as well as you seem to know me, Cougar," he shouted, half distracted by his forgotten CD collection. He hadn't used those in _years_ — not when he could find all the tracks digitally. "Sometimes you scare me!"

"Only sometimes?"

"Holy shit!" Jensen jumped in fright at suddenly having Cougar's voice an inch from his ear.

Cougar took a step back to avoid getting accidentally headbutted, but he made no attempt to hide the smug grin on his face.

"Don't sneak up on people, you naughty kitty!" Jensen admonished, trying to swat Cougar's leg. Unsurprisingly, he missed and a second attempt only made him lose his balance and topple over with a squeak. He ended up sprawled on his back, looking up at Cougar's still smirking face. "I should get one of those spray bottles that people use to discipline their pets," Jensen mused, trying his best not to smile. "I hate you."

Cougar seemed to be holding back a laugh.

"No, you don't," he replied calmly.

Jensen cracked, a wide grin spreading on his lips.

"Nah, I don't," he agreed, reaching up a hand towards Cougar, who didn't hesitate to take it.

Neither of them moved the first couple of seconds, just holding hands, weird as their positions might be. Cougar would never hesitate to offer the simple yet fundamental physical contact that Jensen so desperately craved. It might be over five months since he had woken up from his coma, but he still needed reassurance. He touched Cougar a lot more than he ever had before the accident, and not only because they were now an official couple. Jensen needed to feel the warmth of him, the texture of Cougar's skin under his fingertips, and bury his face against Cougar's neck on regular intervals, just to smell him.

It reminded him of what was real and not.

If Cougar thought this to be odd, he never said anything, even if Jensen had yet to tell him about the weeks he had spent unable to feel. He would, eventually, but not yet. Even without it Cougar always indulged Jensen's need for physical contact without a complaint or knowing the exact cause. But, then again, he might be craving it just as much as Jensen did.

Cougar moved smoothly around Jensen until he could tug him up onto his feet, Jensen complying if only because it brought him straight into Cougar's waiting embrace.

"Hi," Jensen cooed as his arms slipped around Cougar's waist, pulling him closer.

Cougar let out a soft, huffing laugh, shaking his head at the goofy look on Jensen's face.

"Have I told you that I love you today? Because I totally do." Jensen leaned in, rubbing his nose against Cougar's. "You even know where I keep my books that I haven't seen in, like, five years. How do you do that?"

"Secret," Cougar replied smoothly, with a teasing smile to match.

Jensen just had to kiss him.

He took his time, cherishing the warmth and taste, chasing after the curling pleasure that always sparked within his chest as soon as he was close to Cougar. The kiss was deep but unhurried, radiating stability rather than urgency. It felt like something that could last a lifetime.

Jensen breathed softly against Cougar's lips once the kiss ended, refusing to open his eyes. He'd rather soak in the perfection of the moment for a little while longer. Cougar's hands were wandering into his hair, as they had a tendency to do ever since Cougar realized just how much Jensen liked it.

The apartment was quiet around them, the sounds coming from the street below just a distant murmur of white noise in the background. It was a beautiful apartment, made ten times better by the fact that they were moving into it together. At some point Jensen wanted them to upgrade to a house — to make room for possible additions to the family, and he wasn't just referring to the puppy he had always wanted and would totally make Cougar get for him — but for now an apartment would do.

The fact that it was a twenty minute drive from Jess and Beth was the pink icing on the already awesome cake.

It hadn't really hit home yet, that he and Cougar were starting a life together, away from the army and the risks that came with it. That's not to say that Jensen wouldn't miss it, because he would. He'd miss the team — even if they'd still see them from time to time — and the feeling of purpose, of making a change for the better. But Jensen could still do that, depending on what new career he chose to pursue. He hadn't quite decided yet, and felt no hurry whatsoever to do so. It was more important to get settled in the new apartment.

They had been forced to buy a lot of new furniture to fill out all the space, since neither of them had any to begin with. The same applied to things in general. Jensen definitely had more than Cougar, since he had stored a lot at Jess' place — things from before he joined the army — but most of it would probably get thrown out within the next couple of weeks.

Cougar didn't have much at all, except his clothes, books, various trinkets, and his weapons. So besides that, Cougar had brought only one box, and Jensen had been wise enough not to ask to see what was in it. He knew it contained things that had belonged to Cougar's family, and it would be stored somewhere safe until Cougar felt ready to share.

At the moment, the apartment was still a mostly bare mess of half unpacked bags and boxes, but Jensen didn't mind. He liked the feeling of creating something new, one small contribution at a time — as long as he did it together with Cougar. They were moving forward. That was the important part.

Jensen opened his eyes, meeting Cougar's brown gaze with a soft smile.

"You're amazing and I can't believe that you're mine," Jensen mumbled reverently, pulling Cougar just a tiny bit closer, so that he could soak up his warmth and pretend that he could feel Cougar's heart beat against his own.

Cougar gave him an exasperated but fond look, as if he thought that Jensen was adorable, but also a tiny bit stupid. Jensen knew the look well. It was the one Cougar got whenever he thought Jensen was selling himself short.

"And you're mine."

Jensen grinned.

"That I am." One of his hands slipped lower, settling on Cougar's ass, just because he could. "For however long you want me," Jensen purred cheekily.

Cougar looked decidedly amused at first, but his expression soon softened into something so heartfelt and bare that it nearly took Jensen's breath away.

"How about forever?"

Jensen had a hard time sucking in his next breath, much less speak. So all he did was nod dumbly, trying to contain the elation growing in his chest.

"Sounds good," he whispered, voice pitched all wrong.

Cougar merely smiled, his fingers scratching against Jensen's scalp before pulling him in for another kiss, this one full of promise and affection.

Jensen responded in kind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand we're done. You all feel better now? It has a happy ending! A _very_ happy ending, all things considered. And no, I'm not going to say outright what made Jensen wake up. Feel free to interpret it in any way you like ;)
> 
> It's nice having this finished, and I'm pretty sure a lot of you agree. You seem... well, rather upset over this one. I don't blame you, of course (it was horribly evil of me), but yeah. Hopefully this ending will make you feel better!
> 
> [CarpeDentum](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CarpeDentum) betaed as she always does, [Karaii](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Karaii) helped with the Spanish — thank you so, so much — and this here is my [Tumblr](http://amethystinawrites.tumblr.com/). See you next time, my lovelies!


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